Mar Memories
by Smite1
Summary: Jak does not actively remember Haven/Spargus, subconciously he knows it. He recognises the streets, it practically scares him when he first notices. The people aren't as easily recognised... Or are they? T for a few words. P.S SPOILERS!
1. Haven and Me

Hello again. I'm just in a Jak mood right now. Have offically finished 2 and 3, working on TPL, X and TLF. Procrastinating as usual.

Jak is property of Naughty Dog, as far as I know, so don't bite me if I'm wrong.

Alright, I've just got to ask you all, Don't you guys think someone had to have an inkling that something was up? Jak had literaly lived there already and you don't think he noticed?

This will go through Jak 3 also, but only vaguely reference TPL, as I haven't fully finished it yet. That and the point of this is not to replay his entire life story, it's to put a different light on it.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but reviews get me working on them, so write reviews if you want to see any more work.

* * *

Jak stared out of the prison. He recognised this place. He knew the streets, the slums, the stadium and the port. He knew where all of this stuff was and he had barely seen any of it after crashing head first into the middle of the industrial area. _Shit_ was the only thing he can think of to describe the feeling in his gut that something was horribly wrong here. He was releavied he didn't recognise anyone, even though there is a sea of similarly faced people they look like strangers that stare down past him. _No one looks up here, only down in defeat..._ He frowned at himself.

He couldn't know that the only things the bastards in prison spoke about was his inability to die from the eco, and the minimal changes his body had from the injections. He'd wished he'd died so many times, the eco they pumped into him may have been small doses, but dark eco burnt no matter how much you dealt with it, if you even could.

An old man glanced at Jak. Jak recognised him. He knew that shaped face with a gem on his skull, something was wrong with the image though. It wasn't right. What wasn't lining up?

The man,was pompus, Jak decided immediately. And far more dangerous than he acted. His gut told him he should go for his throat and stop any of this from ever happening. He wanted to do it too. But he couldn't, he scared Daxter. The man looked Jak over.

"Interesting." the man said.

"You look like a reasonably smart man. I want information. Where the hell am I?" Jak roared in his face, the thing back down Jak grinned to himself. Daxter tried to apologise to the child. Jak looked at the kid confused for a moment, _that necklace..._

* * *

"Jak, you might want to clean up alittle bit." Daxter laughed to his newly rescued friend. Daxter avoided Jak's eye. He knew Jak didn't blame him, but he blamed himself for being too late, for Jak no longer being the naive Jak he should have been. "You got a bit of fuz you might want to clean off, but I say keep the goatee. It's a nice green I haven't seen on you in years." Daxter laughed as Jak frowned in confusion. He went to do it, Daxter praying he didn't end up bleeding to due from lack of experience.

Jak thought he would be fine, aslong as it wasn't too bad on his skin. He walked in facing the mirror his hand poised to clear it off, then froze. And yelled. It was still strange to hear his voice say anything more than grunts. Daxter rushed in taking a look at Jak's face thinking he'd cut it. No blood on the green hair. Also no progress at all. Jak continued staring at the mirror.

_This can't be me._ he thought staring at the reflection infront of him, it was hairy than he remembered but... _I've seen it before. It's not mine._

"Jak. If you're that scared. I'll show you how to do it." Daxter told the boy that seemed to be ignoring him. Jak silently stared at the mirror not taking his eyes off it to hand the razor to Daxter. Daxter could see something was scaring Jak. Not the idea of shaving, but he couldn't tell what. He couldn't ask.

After he's cleaned up the fuzz on Jak's face, he looks at Jak approvingly. "Now that is one stylin' goatee, buddy." Daxter laughed, and Jak tensed up again as he noticed it in the reflection. Jak simply turned to the ottsel, with his eyes wide with confusion.

_This isn't me._ Daxter looked away. He felt the guilt of not finding his friend in time.


	2. Sig, Ashelin and Kor

I believe I take personal enjoyment in procrastinating.

Alright, I'm not going into love-y-dove-y crap for this, if I get the desire or asked, I might write up a short one, but this thing is over 15000 words long, and that's without love interests.

As I have just recalled, I should point out there are spoilers in here if you haven't played the games, but why are you reading this if you've never played them? It seems kind of pointless, because most fic authors assume you know the characters, even if they mix them up themselves.

Jak and Daxter belong to Naughty Dog.

R&R.

* * *

When they entered the Hip Hog, Jak stared at the dark-skinned man. He knew him. That wastelander... How could Jak know someone that was working for such a slease? He had morals, and was honorable. How did he know he was a wastelander? Daxter took his relative silence as a signal to get this party started. He walked up to the wastelander, looking fully prideful and in control. Daxter walked past him and saw the tub of lard that was Krew. He'd obviously been surpised but Jak knew the wastelander had a good reason to be there. He wasn't Krew's crony for no reason. When Daxter started sounding like he was losing control, Jak jumped in.

"We did you a favour, now it's our turn. Why is the Baron giving eco to the metal heads?" Jak growled down at the bulging fat. Krew lunged his chair towards Jak, looking close in his face, trying to intimidate him which he could probably only do with the threat of drowning him in his rolls. Jak didn't back down glaring back at the fat man's face. The wastelander looked at Jak with a grin, that almost looked proud, for some reason.

"Questions like that could get a person killed, 'ey! Sig, pay 'el Capitan' here and his friend a bonus." The wastelander, Sig, walked stiffly to Jak and, although Jak was sure he wouldn't hurt him, he still tense for a strike. When he produced a gun Jak was slighty relieved, but still uneasy of his apparent memory of this man.

"Ever thought of being a wastelander, hmmm?" Jak tried to to choke on the sarcasm the man had in his voice.

"Can't say that I have." Jak had never thought about it, it was practically in his blood. He shook his head minutely, he didn't know how he knew what a wastelander was, he didn't belong here.

Sig came up behind Jak, he realised.

"So you wanna be wastelanders, huh doughboys? Well, we'll see what you're made of when we get out in the thick." Sig was grinning at Jak in a way Jak remember, but it was distorted. It felt wrong. Daxter gulped as he continued. Sig just laughed and continued. "Don't worry Chilli pepper, cause we're rolling with the peace maker!" he boasted , showing a weapon with metal cast onto the barrel. Jak looked at it for half a second before knowing it was purely a peacemaker, how it worked and how someone wouldn't let him touch it until he was older. His hand drifted to it without him realising until Krew almost took it off.

"We'll meet at the pumping station. Listen Cherries" Jak's eyes flicked up at the familiar name, and noticed the man's voice faltered slightly and he looked like he'd betrayed himself as it left his mouth. "Don't you leave me dangling in the wind out there." Sig continued like it hadn't affected him at all.

* * *

Jak snuck up behind Sig at the pumping station, not on purpose, the man simply didn't notice him. Jak noticed the man wasn't paying much attention to the world at all. His eyes talking to no one as far as Sig knew. _I'm sorry, kid._ Then he noticed Jak, and the pain in his eyes deepened, just for a second.

_You look like him._

"Hello Cherries!" He greeted closing his eyes and breathing out instead of looking Jak in the eyes. "Ready to hunt a few Metal Heads?" He grinned happily at Jak. "Follow me, stick close and watch my six." He said clipped to him, like he would know exactly what he meant. Jak looked back understanding fully. Sig cocked the peacemaker enthuiastically. "This is gonna be fun." He said grinning at Jak with a lost smile.

"Boom" Sig called out to himself, like he was playing with a child. "Home team 5, Metal Heads nothing!" he grinned at Jak. Then stopped just a little bit. That distant look back in his eye. He told Jak to leave and Jak was just the tiniest bit downtrodden. It brought up an image that Sig couldn't bear. Of Mar. "You did good, rookie." He said kindly to Jak. He looked up with a weak smile in response. They departed not looking at eachother again.

* * *

Jak looked at the stone, it seemed so famliar. His hand drifted up to his thoart before he heard something move behind him. It grabbed him by the throat with a gun pointed to his skull. He struggled against it, it wasn't cocked. "Who the hell are you two?" the figure, a girl asked angrily. Jak froze. He knew that voice. And the face, when she let go to deal with Daxter. "Keep talking and I'll raise your voice a few octaves." He definitely knew her. How?

"Easy..." he began roughly, trying to place her voice. "Torn asked us to help ypu." She glared at him.

"I don't need help." she growled at him. He knew her, her face glaring down at him when he was trying to be nice, he'd just been a little kid... What?

* * *

"Samos told us to bring the kid to you!" Daxter yelled as soon as they got to the power station. The strange feelings of deja vu had hit again, the city was barable now, he tried to think of it as just a place he'd been before and had learnt well. Even though it really shouldn't.

The kid stared up at Jak. Jak involuntarily stared back at him. He was on the wrong side of this staring contest. Skewed views and half-recalled thoughts buffered that suggestion in his mind. He glanced away as the kid walked over slightly cautiously to Kor.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to keep him close." the old man said. Jak bit back a growl, it wasn't any deeper than that, he kept telling himself. He's just watching the kid... The crocadog growled for him. Jak was surprised the dog had even stood near himself. Animals were much more senstive to the dark eco that was swarming around inside his body. Daxter could barely stay on his shoulder without his fur pricking up in agitation. This dog though, it knew the eco wasn't the only thing there...Jak stroked the dog thankfully. And the growling stopped, the dog even looked pleased that Jak had touched him. He'd felt the fur bristle a little from the contact, but the dog didn't look the least bit agitated by him. It grinned as much as the crocadog could, before Kor made a comment about the dog.

"That insufferable mutt never liked anyone but the boy before..." Jak blinked in surprise. Jak knew it didn't particularly like Samos or even Torn, especially Kor, but it had never taken a go at him. Even though he'd only been there a few weeks, it almost welcomed him.

He remembered a crocadog. He'd had one when he was tiny. His father... he thought, had given it to him. It was never is Sandover, though. He'd wondered where it had gone. Jak smirked. One thing that made the creature fallible. The 'mutt' knew something was up aswell. He'd protect the kid...

"I guess I'm just good with animals." Jak muttered to himself as he stared the dog in the eyes. _Protect him from this thing..._ Jak silently asked the dog. He was surprised when it nodded understandingly.

Then it went off to piddle on Kor's staff, which was a laugh Jak was long overdue.


	3. Heir, Samoses and Beauty Naps

Okay, honestly I don't care if anyone thinks this thing sucks, constructive cristism would be appreciated, but I won't hold my breath.

This is a project I did because I wanted to. I'll do another Jak story when I get a good idea. It fun doing Jak fics though. They are vague on many details, so you can come to your own conclusions on a lot of things.

If I've changed tenses, please tell me, thanks.

Jak and affliations belong to Naughty Dog.

* * *

The next time Jak saw the kid, it was at the Tomb of Mar. It was a truly unsettling feeling. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered someone say it was probably...

__

"...deep, pitch-black, 'sure to be filled with to the brim with painful death' old tomb... I wouldn't go in there."

Jak blinked confused. Daxter just said that after Jak had thought it. The kid was silently whimpering, showing the fear Jak knew they both felt. Jak touched the child on the shoulder. The kid's fear almost instantly disappeared and Jak felt the strange wave of deja vu again.

__

"Welcome Heir of Mar. Finally the chosen one stands before me."

Jak didn't pay attention to anything for a moment. The doors opened mechnically as he stepped around the kid. Then the doors cranked to a halt. Jak stared at it confused. _"this child is too young to face the tests!"_ Surprising, Jak thought, they thought he would let a child go in there. He would've gone in regardless of who was supoosed to.

"Do something, Jak!" Jak was already running before Samos yelled out. He half heard Daxter's repeated complaint, that was a main reason why he wasn't going to let the kid in. He slipped under the door. Daxter realised what he was doing and tried to get out of his reach. Jak grabbed his tail and swiftly pulled him under the door.

He knew what Samos and Kor were saying.  
_He's gone to face the tests!  
No he's gone to his death.  
FREEZE!_ There were guards coming. He'd left them to be captured... He'd make it up to them, when he got out.

Shit.

* * *

Jak was startled to say the least, when he saw two Samos. The one he'd come to recognises at from here, younger without the whitened hair that truly came from dealing with Daxter, and the older mentally scarred one that was definitely his timewise. Jak barely opened his mouth before his Samos went on a rant. Daxter managed to yell out Jak's thoughts about as clearly as they were in his own mind. Jak looked to the younger asking if he knew what the hell happened.

"You're you! I mean the other you! I mean... You know what I mean." Daxter puttered out, pointing randomly in his confusion. The younger Samos, who was less annoyed just looked at the older, sizing him up.

The young Samos moaned on how crabby he became, the older looking worryingly at Jak.

"We need to find the kid!" he yelled over Daxter. The greener Samos back chatted him sarcastically.

The two fought with each other loudly, as Jak just looked between them annoyed. Daxter was the one to try to break them up surprisingly. The buzz of the warp gate was sweet relief from this confusion.

* * *

He went to the bar. Thankful Krew was getting his 'beauty nap' as he called it. He was curious as to what made the lard-ball run in his sleep. Sig told Jak silently to come over. Jak came over without even another motion to tell him. Sig stared for just a moment, before he turned down to his drink and took a deep swig. He turned to Jak again, and tried not to think of Mar.

"You boys are alright." He said quietly to the pair, only being slightly influenced by Jak's likeness, "and since the boss is out of it right now, I'm going to give it to you straight." He muttered not looking Jak in the eye. He grinned half-heartedly. "I've been Krew's heavy for years," _Three years,_ he added to himself, "And I've done things I'm not proud of..." He shook his head at all the dead ends he'd come across so far. "But this time, I think Krew's gotten himself and us, into something nasty." He looked at Jak, knowing he could feel it too, from the look in his eyes, knowing what Sig was asking him. "I'm thinking of getting out." _Going home. To Spargus._

Daxter didn't catch it, obviously. "Aw... Sig's beginning to like us, Jak. Come here you big lug. Hugs for everyone!" He joked walking across the table as Jak rolled his eyes at him. Sig swept his hand at the idiot and continued.

"Knock it off! I think Krew's trying to-" He cut off hearing the shortened and waking noises of Krew. Daxter went to open his mouth, Jak's eyes just stared into his own begging him to try to explain it further. _Just try._ "SHhh! he's waking up..." he half-heartedly denied them.

Daxter looked cocky and stupid and began to 'butter up bun boy'. Jak watched from behind him with silent lauughter. Sig could see the innocence in the laughter, and wondered where it came from. Haven wasn't kind to children. It would be a miracle if Sig found Mar with that laughter still in him. Jak turned to share the mirth with Sig, but caught his expression. His smile died down quickly and he looked at Sig, _I'm sorry._ The look was so much younger than Sig expected. He only saw a child before Krew broke him out of the daydream.


	4. Krew's Dead, Falling and the Baron

Okay, I've gotten 1 review, and I must say, I love they actually thought through their comment.

I love it when it's coherent and not "LOL, I LUV DIS! XD"

**CletusAshe**, I love your review. I've realised I misspelt some things and I'm trying to fix them up. Hope to read something from you sometime, buddy. :)

Jak and co. are property of Naughty Dog. _I'm just using them for entertainment._

* * *

Jak saw Sig firing almost constantly down the hall. He smiled, the guy was still okay.

"Hey there, tough guy." Sig recoiled from the noise of Jak's voice and only barely managed to avoid Jak's head when he shot on instinct. Jak ducked away startle, and half-guilty.

"Get your skinny ass over here and start shooting!" Sig ordered the boy, who obliged willingly. "Man was I set up." He growled angrily. "Krew sent me down here to open some old doors with that Ruby Key you found, and when I did, Metal Heads came streaming in from some passage outside the city walls..." He stopped to breathe for a moment. "Just like they were waiting for me! There's one! " he yelled shooting a quick but well aimed shot. Jak leaned over to Sig, unconcerned of being hit by the larger man.

"Krew's dead." Jak said simply without turning to look at the wastelander. Sig wasn't annoyed, but he was pissed at Krew.

"Yeah? Well, he's lucky! 'Cause he would not want me to catch him alive!" Sig swore vehemently. Jak obviously agreed as he chuckled silently over his shoulder. He quickly glanced over his shoulder and signalled for Sig to follow. He wasn't going to leave him behind, not this time.

* * *

As they ran from the metal head centipede that dwarfed them both, Jak fell behind, just the smallest bit from his smaller stature. The centipede's scurrying weakened the path, Jak tried to get across to the unaffected section but his jump came short.

He was falling.

He almost gave up before he saw a guarded arm come into his line of vision. It was Sig, who was staring back at him fearful for his life. He quickly grabbed for it and was surprised when he remembered the same hand easily pulling him up single-handedly. He pushed himself up and looked at Sig gratefully, ignoring the deja vu. Sig stared at him confused. He'd seen that fear in Mar. He tried to forget about it. He had barely managed to save Mar and then lost him, but Jak was bringing back those memories.

They nodded silently and continued moving to an exit.

They ran as far as they could but eventually had to stop for breath. Jak held himself up on his knees, catching his breath. This was fun, and way more rewarding, as Sig also needed to catch his breath.

"Let's go. We're almost at the elevator." Jak looked back at Sig, who had managed to catch his breath quickly, a perk of normally breathing in sand, it was much easier to breathe overall.

"Look's like we finally lost 'em, chilli peppers! Piece of cake, huh?" he said to Daxter, watching Jak carefully, with a grin on his face. If Mar grew up to be half this kid, Sig would've been proud to call him a wastelander.

Jak deserved to know about Spargus. But that could only ever be a last resort. Kid wasn't that lost yet.

"Now you boys are real wastelanders!" And Sig meant it. Jak was so much like Mar, honourable and honest as he could be, and compassionate. Something he hadn't lost in Haven City. Sig enthusiastically continued on a battle plan to Jak, as the boy's eyes showed an awe that looked so much like Mar's admiration, Sig couldn't stop himself.

Jak's eyes quickly turned pale, _Look out!,_ as he gasped out a "Sig!" He barely managed to turn before the centipede come down on top of him.

Daxter stared down where Sig had been standing a moment ago, then to Jak. He said nothing. He couldn't. Jak was distraught, with an anguish so harsh drawn across his face.

They walked out silently.

* * *

Jak heard Vin's weak message on the communicator, and immediately began to rush there. He had to stop this.

He ran as fast as his legs allowed him, and eventually came to the site. He immediately saw Baron Praxis and some guards, he quietly ran down, hoping to avoid their attention for the moment.

Until Kor landed in between the two groups. Much more athletically than an aging man should, especially when he complained of his 'aching bones'.

"Kor?" Jak choked out. "What's going on?" He tried to ask without attacking the creature. He knew something was terribly wrong. Kor grinned into his face.

"I'm sure you know..." the creature laughed in Jak's face. "deep down in your darkest nightmares!" It's face contorted to display fangs and it's eyes dilated to reveal almost yellow orbs. Jak froze momentarily and back a step. "We've met before, remember?" It growled amused. "Everything's going exactly as planned." It cackled as it tossed the staff away and wings and a tail began protruding from it's form. It's face burst into a familiar mug. One Jak had never forgotten, even before he'd shot them through the rift.

Jak couldn't move as Praxis moved to challenge Kor. The man was tossed like a rag doll and smashed against scaffolding. He fell under the collapsing carnage. Kor left to search elsewhere.

Jak moved and tried to remove the rubble from him. _He can't die, not like this!_ Jak swore to himself.

Baron Praxis tried to prop himself up as Jak helped move the rubble. He coughed weakly, he wasn't going to last. Both of them knew that. "You are my supreme weapon, Jak and I made you." he told Jak hoarsely. "Still, any leader worth his salt always has his back up plan..." he weakly thumbed a remote that exposed a bomb with the precursor stone hooked into it. He looked at Jak, with a hidden deepness in his eyes. "Remember the first rule of a bomb, always make two." he coughed harshly before his eye closed and he lost any movement in his body.

Jak felt no gratitude in Praxis' death. Not that the man who had destroyed his life was dead, but he felt something else, a pain he didn't know to explain. A feeling that felt like anguish. He turned away, he couldn't think about this now. The kid was definitely in danger.


	5. The Boy is, The Light and Naughty Ottsel

Alright, this is the last installment of Jak 2 in Mar Memories.

We'll be moving on to Jak 3 soon. I'll point out I've taken some creative licensing in Jak 3, partially because they are very vague, partially because I thought it was cruel. I'll explain it more later.

Depending on where you live, it's April fools today. ;) I hope you have a good one.

Jak and Co. property of Naughty Dog, even though I'd love to own them.

* * *

Jak glared over at the creature hanging inside the nest.

"Finally, you decided to join us," Kor cackled hoarsely. "And you brought the precursor stone." It laughed at Jak, as he tightened his grip on the stone."The boy will now play his final part." he continued as he twisted his tail to reveal the child unconscious.

Jak breathed sharply, but wasn't fully worried, he couldn't figure out why... "Not this time." he muttered darkly. The metal head cackled at him.

"Oh, but this child is such a part of this! Such a part of you!" it spoke emphatically. "Don't you recognise him? The boy is you, Jak!" Jak's mind finally clicked some details in. How he knew Haven, he'd been there as a kid. Why he had so many senses of deja vu... "And this place... this is where you began in the future!" it snapped at him. He gazed blindly ahead, thinking it through, it was true... He remembered hearing this before.

"But how?" Jak managed. He knew it would be so he could fight this creature now, when he was a threat...

* * *

Kor was injured, badly. He tried to escape through the rift ring, but crashed into the side. It flashed and the next thing Jak saw, Kor's head was near his younger self. It made sense. His hair was green dyed blond in the sun.

Keira disrupted his train of thought.

"Let's go home everyone." she said, quickly prepping the rider.

Jak just muttered quietly, "But we are home..." Was she home though? He was 17, and apparently he went to Sandover at age 5. She was Samos' kid, at 16. Jak looked at Samos. Both Samos looked away from Keira. She gasped as if she'd realised something after a few questions and Daxter's ever so helpful 'the more you think about it the more it hurts the head!' She glanced at Jak and the little boy. And glanced behind herself so quickly, Jak almost missed it. Then easily let the younger Samos take over the rider. Jak lifted himself onto the rider.

"Hey kid..." he told himself awkwardly. "You take care. Oh... and trust me on this." He squatted down to his eye-level. "Stay away from any wumpbee nests in your ninth birthday, okay?" He knew he wouldn't, but he'd given himself fair warning.

Samos farewelled himself, and Jak realised how messed up this could have been.

"Thanks, Samos. Without you..." he began, not really knowing what to say.

"It's funny, the boy won't remember any of this." The old man said to himself as they watched the ring crumble, the only way back taken by himself. Jak thought back. He definitely remembered a bit of it now... But he'd always remembered...

"No, I do remember the light."

* * *

Jak was glad Daxter found something to call his own here. Daxter was the one truly most displaced here, but he was making the best of it.

"Welcome to the Naughty Ottsel!" he cried out happily as Ashelin and Torn entered, somewhat suspiciously... They glanced up at Kor's mounted skull, it was much more useful as a display than when it had been connected to his body, they all agreed.

Jak bowed his head in a toast to Vin and everyone who had lost their lives, defeating Kor and protecting himself. He looked down into his hand, where he held the amulet his younger self had handed to him, like he knew it was time for him to have it.

"I still can't believe that little boy was me...Better times, huh?" he muttered to himself. Keira heard him.

"You miss him, huh? You know..." She smiled at Jak. "The kid grows up to be a handsome hero." They leaned close, but realised where they were and saw Daxter go flying away from Onin. They laughed as Pecker interpreted a message he was not about to translate.

The door opened and a wind distracted Daxter who glanced to it and screamed "Metal Head!" Jak turned immediately, realising it could only be one person.

"SIG!" He cried out happily. He almost jumped at the man. Before realising at 17, hugging a guy wouldn't be a reasonable thing to do. Sig looked at him and saw the gratefulness that Sig was alive. The look he saw on Mar's face...

"You, Cherries, didn't think some nasty breath, giant sized lizard was gonna keep me from the biggest party in town, did ya?" he laughed at Jak. He grabbed the teenager himself in a bear hug. He was family as far as Sig was concerned.

Enough to 'blow his image' as Daxter put it, telling him the story that always made Mar laugh. It did for Jak aswell. Jak even looked like he knew the story. He even looked like it reminded him of _home._

When Samos mentioned time, Sig was confused. Jak was annoyed at the notion of time. Like it took something he never wanted to lose. It did. Sig would have to find out more about it later, tonight was for celebrating.

Daxter jumped at Pecker when the monkaw slipped that he knew something was going to happen soon. The men snickered and petted the crocadog, which laughed with them.

Sig noticed the crocadog looked like Mar's, but it couldn't be... It never let anyone but the kid, Damas and himself touch it.

Sig, eventually, split them up, grinning ear to ear along with M- Jak.


	6. Desert, To Spargus and Forgotten Ones

Alright, I'm not sure if this has come up yet and I can't be bothered looking through right now, but I'm assuming they count long ears in the description of human. it's just used at points, and I think I may have used humane at one point, which would make no sense if you're saying they're elven. What would that be, el-vain?

Also I have no idea how long is 'canon' for the rift jump, I think I heard somewhere it was 500 years, and then Mar showed up, but I can't remember or find it anywhere. I'm assuming 500, and that Sandover went caput soon after, seeing as Samos' Hut was almost exactly the same after a few centuries, I think that's a decent estimate.

Also, I've made assumptions, that are wrong in the sense of western aristocracy, but it's what I've always thought, from when I played Jak 2 when I was 10 or 11. _I'm proud to say I finished it at that age too._ And my knowledge of aristocracy was founded solely because I wanted to know where a Baron was technically on the food chain, which is actually pretty low, I thought it was atleast above Viscount, but nope. You'll understand my assumption as you read.

Interesting note: Count Veger, technically ranks higher than Baron Praxis did, but the Baron's family was living in the castle, as Ashelin says. Veger would've been technically more in the right to overtake the king, but a baron did. Did he simply not bother opposing the man, or was he supporting the usurpering for a_ different reason_?

Also, I love poking fun at his name. :]

Jak and co. Property of Naughty Dog

* * *

Jak was pissed.

Ashelin had tried to get him out of it, he knew. But the bastard Vegen, or whatever it was, had the help of the corrupt officials that had supported the usurper of his father in the first place. Not that he was going to let him know that. He didn't trust the man, he felt a deep desire to destroy the man, but he couldn't figure out why.

He'd been reluctant to asked Ashelin about this place's history, or about his family. Not that he didn't trust her, as a friend, but she often wanted something in return. She had acted strangely when she saw him threading his seal of Mar back together. And had acted stranger since.

She avoided saying anything about the house of Mar. Just that the last king had been banished and was probably dead. He didn't want to ask about the city he thought was in the wastes. It wasn't on any maps, so it may have just been him miss-associating areas or time frames. _A forgotten city_.

At times, she acted strange, touching his arm, trying to comfort him, never telling him why. But it felt awkward, when he knew he was the main reason her father died. He hadn't even hated the man in the end, she had.

One time, she asked why he had the seal. He reminded her he lived in a different time, she'd understood that, eventually. He answered her honestly. "Because it's mine." he told her, not waiting for her to say anything back. She just stared, gobsmacked. She didn't tell him why. He assumed it was because that meant he could take her position if he ever felt inclined. He never would, he couldn't order people around, only protect from as many wrongs as he could.

And now where was he?  
In the desert, miles from anything, and probably going to die like his father probably had. The beacon she'd given him was only useful if he managed to live that long. He needed to get somewhere. Pecker and Daxter hadn't helped. He figured to follow his gut. Head for that orange light on the horizon, that wasn't the sun because that was on his back. It was Spargus, he hoped.

After hours of walking with no shade, he momentarily regretted following his gut. He should've taken shelter under one of the rocks where they'd started. If that beacon was any use at all, it would've been smarter to stay in the one spot.

He collapsed, quickly followed by Daxter in a delirious speech.

* * *

A while after, he wasn't sure how much longer, he heard stomping through the sand. Someone grabbed him roughly by the shirt. His eyes opened slightly, not enough to see any details, just a vague shape. He blinked a lucid _Father?_

Damas looked at the boy confused. His eyes spoke like Mar, exactly like Mar, but he couldn't be... He was far too old. He saw the beacon in the boy's hand. It was the one he'd given to his niece, despite her father and his lackeys.

He growled at the boy, he was mocking two of the few things he couldn't protect any more.

"Who gave you this?" it growled. It was familiar, but angry. Jak groaned, both out of pain and out of annoyance of the life he couldn't live. He couldn't make any other movement or words. The man dropped him roughly and ordered someone to take them back.

The boy looked too much like Mar for Damas to just leave him to die out here, and if he'd been able to walk this much closer to Spargus from where the beacon started, he had to at least be useful in some way. He somehow knew Spargus.

* * *

Jak and Daxter played in the water in the throne room. Jak knew this place, but he refused to say anything out loud. Ever.

Daxter moaned about how much sand there was outside. More than Sandover. Which had it in it's name.

Jak scoffed at Daxter quietly. "Good you remember it, because we can't go back to Sandover. Ever." he muttered darkly, not hearing a man in brown armour enter.

Damas listened to the boy's mutterings. He tried to ignore it. Sandover _was_ Haven City. 'Was' being the operative word, that had been almost 500 years ago. The rat spoke up again, changing the apparently touchy subject.

"I love water." he said splashing in it, as the boy rubbed his shortened hair. It was green under all the sun-exposed blond. Much like his own had been before turning prematurely white. The boy's frame looked similar to his wife's. For a moment, he thought this boy was what his son would look like when he was older. He grunted angrily.

"Come back from the dead, have you?" Damas scoffed at the boy. "And my monks were ready to pray for you." He said, trying not to see Mar in the boy's face. "I am Damas, King of Spargus." He saw the boy's eyes light up with recognition.

"Spargus?" Jak repeated, he knew that name. But he thought it wasn't... "Wait, nobody lives outside Haven's walls..." _my father didn't...unless you are..._"Not a whole city." he covered up his slip-up.

Damas caught it, as Jak glanced to the orange creature. "Ah, yes... we _are_ the forgotten ones. Haven City's refuse, thrown out and left to die." Damas growled at the boy's cover up. The boy had known about Spargus. "Just as you were." he said lowly. He turned away from the face mirroring his son's guiltiest appearance. "Out here everything is either useful or dead weight. Prove yourself worthy, or the desert will be your grave." he tried to scare the boy, but the boy almost scoffed like he'd heard it a hundred times before.

Jak stood confidently, despite the gut feeling that told him he should just ask him. "You need to work on making a better first impression." Damas laughed heartily. Jak felt uneasy, it wasn't his first impression. That was the problem...


	7. The Arena, Animal Man and Pep Talk

Anybody notice my assumption? It will be very obvious by the end, so don't worry if you missed it. I'm having a lot of fun with this. I'm thinking of doing some fanart for it too, Anybody want to look at it?

Would love some more reviews, but I'm not holding my breath for it. Hope people like it either way.

Jak and co. (c) Naughty Dog.

* * *

The Arena gave him that feeling again. He'd been too small to remember it properly, though. Pecker's new appointment gave him a little relief from memories. He glanced around looking for someone, he didn't know who, just that he'd know when he saw her. Damas caught him doing it. "...Yes, Pecker is my new advisor." Damas cut into the debate that seemed to be coming solely from Pecker and Daxter.

The duo was quickly sent into the arena to see if they were worth the effort Kleiver had put into lugging them back here.

Damas noticed the boy's physical abilities were grossly mismatched to his appearance, his strength was belied by the minor muscles toning his skin and his jumps were not a skill one learned in Haven, which was the only place this boy could be from.

When the boy quickly cleared the course, Damas felt proud for some reason that he couldn't pin down. He quickly organised for the practical part of the test. He was annoyed when the bird repeated him, trying for a dramatic effect. The arena was dramatic enough without the two animals making it worse. The rat sulked.

* * *

Damas watched Jak fight. The fighting wasn't taught to the boy in any way. Even his weapon skills seemed self-taught, steadying the gun's recoil against his ribs was a habit he would have to break the boy out of.

Then, as the dark eco that powered the matter-makers started breaking up, something strange happened. The eco dragged itself to the boy, like a magnet. It touched his skin and he could hear the skin burn, and the boy hiss, but the boy continued fighting, favouring more physical attacks than before.

When the boy jumped, Damas realised the boy was channelling, subconsciously, but the shock wave that came was definitely much more efffective than a few well placed kicks. The boy swaggered awkwardly, like he was having trouble staying concious, to the elevator.

As it rose, he seemed to relax slightly. He held his face, like dispelling a migraine. Seem, the priestess, simply glared at the boy before leaving. _Was she jealous of the boy? Or fearful?_

"Something you're not telling us, animal man?" Damas asked Jak so that only those on the platforms could hear. Pecker quickly answered, with dramatic movements.

"He has been touched with Dark eco, my liege." Damas glared at the bird. He knew well that title meant little here. He was going to ask about that comment later, however.

Daxter ignored that. "Our boy here gets all mean and nasty when you piss him off." Jak glared at him, in a similar way Damas knew he had just glared at the bird. Daxter grinned impishly. "So, don't piss him off, word to the wise!" he said loudly with a laugh.

Damas stared at Jak a moment longer before hearing the rat. "Ah..." he began, not knowing what to truly say about the boy that seemed to be so familiar to him. "Then he is dangerous..."

He tried not to think of Mar becoming like this boy, or being found like him, dying in the desert.

"And that could be useful." he added. Jak stared at him confused, much as Damas felt himself. "Your bravery has earned you your first battle Amulet. If you are victorious in two more arena fights, you will earn your citizenship to Spargus." He soldiered on. He tossed Jak a small card. "Here is a gate pass to allow free passage in and out of the city."

He paused, why had he given a newcomer free passage in and out of the city, that was a right reserved for full citizens. Newcomers were only allowed to leave when a mission dictated it. What was it about this boy that he trusted so much?

No, not trust. He wouldn't trust him yet as far as he could throw him. Which wasn't exceddingly much. So what was it?

"But, beware. There is no true refuge outside our walls." _Especially not in Haven._ "The desert is less kind than I." he tried to growl. It came out less guttural than he intended, more fatherly than he ever intended. Jak shifted awkwardly as well.

* * *

Jak skidded the Tough Puppy into the garden. He narrowly avoided Damas and Kleiver. He hadn't even looked worried in the slightest, despite the lack of trained driving skills he possessed.

Damas stood still, as calm as Jak. Kleiver had backed away slightly, noticeable by his girth. Daxter had looked terrified and clung the cage for his life, as Damas and Jak both silently snickered. They stopped as they saw the other laughing.

"Nice wheel work." Damas commented proudly. He didn't even glance at Pecker. "My advisor here says you have vehicle skills." He lied, knowing this boy was naturally skilled. Jak smirked back at him.

"I can hold my own." He stared at Damas, like he wanted the praise, but wasn't consciously looking for it. Damas thought about that gaze, as Pecker commented enthusiastically about usefulness. The bird was the last one to ever say something's worth, he literally sat on his ass all day. Daxter did more, and that was saying something.

Damas was growing to like the rat, even enough to stop the endless streaming of fights between the bird and rat. He was the kind of character he imagined his son would befriend, even if it grated on his nerves horribly. He wasn't, however, above torturing the rat.

He told the pair to go look for artifacts, but couldn't help himself, with a bit of fatherly brutality.

"One more thing, if you get caught in the storms, they will tear the flesh from your very bones." he drawled the last word, exactly like he'd practised those years ago. He looked quickly to Jak, with a worried glance, to be met with Jak's confused stare. Daxter, however, ignored the silent conversation.

"Oh, great. Thanks for the pep talk." Jak glared at the rat, before heading out, skidding across the sand and almost knocking Daxter off, as much for his own enjoyment as his punishment.


	8. Tan, Damas Says, Proud and My Father

Okay, I've added some no existent scenes into this, it's to get my plot going a little clearer and to get some laughs across. Guess what Daxter was going to say after he trailed off, it can be whatever you like, but I've got a personal favourite I might tell you later.

Sorry for this chapter being slightly longer, but I didn't want to cut it off half way through a scene and otherwise it was too short.

I have just discovered there is a spell-checker here. It's not co-operating when I've actually spelt something wrong, but there is one. Great...

Jak and co. (c) Naughty Dog. (I'm just going to add see previous chapter for disclaimer after this.)

* * *

"You've been real quiet, buddy. What's up with you, Jak?" Daxter asked as soon as he trusted he wasn't going flying the next second. Jak remained silent, focusing on the rolling sands, searching for artifacts. "Hey, buddy, you know I can take anything you throw at me, so spill." he encouraged. He knew Jak could multi-tasking for this. Talking may not have always been second nature, but he was perfectly capable of doing it now.

Jak pushed the vehicle over a dune, landing roughly and almost knocking Daxter over. He waited for him to settle again before he muttered his answer.

"What was that?" Daxter asked loudly leaning closer to check he wasn't losing his hearing to the wind.

"I said 'he reminds me...'," Jak muttered, "of before." he clarified. "All of this does." He glared ahead, not wanting to say it again. Daxter looked at him startled, but didn't ask him to repeat.

"You think you came from Spargus?" Daxter eventually asked conversationally, as they progressed home towards Spargus, watching the glow through the shifting sands.

They weren't in much danger of being caught in the storm, but Jak kept a decent pace, just in case.

Jak shrugged slightly. Daxter continued, as usual. "Well, it would explain the tan you had as a kid... " he nodded to himself. "I mean, I basically met you as soon as you came, and I still didn't believe Old Green-Beans when he said you were from a big old dark city. Said you probably been through a lot and I wouldn't help. Though he was just annoyed after he found out my..." Daxter stopped momentarily to ponder this. "Wait a minute! He knew we were going to be best buds! He was trying to split us up!" Jak rolled his eyes at his friend.

* * *

Damas watched the gates open slowly to allow Jak and Daxter into Spargus with the artifacts they had uncovered. He saw the sands rushing to catch behind the boys, they were inside with the gates closing faster than the sands moved. Damas half expected marauders to be trailing behind the boy for the gates to react so quickly. Some thuds followed quickly, but he wasn't that surprised. Sand skidded into Pecker's face, much to Daxter's amusement.

Jak quickly pried the rat from the bars of the cage, all the while smiling in a reserved, almost mournful tone. He was trying to hide it, but Damas knew the expression from years of his wife's depression over their son. Even if Jak wasn't looking for it, he needed cheering up.

"Good work." Damas told him. Jak's head turned upwards to look the man in the eyes. "That was... close." he decided, not finding a better answer to Jak's questioning stare. The two stared in an understanding silence. Pecker, the obnoxious creature he was, ruined the moment.

"Oh, are you beginning to care?" he cooed sarcastically. "Damas says-" Damas, growing tired of the bird's interruptions, grabbed Pecker's muzzle and held on tightly, resulting in a drowned out series of groans.

Damas glared at the bird, threatening, daring it to try and see what happened, and Jak smiled appreciatively to the older man.

"My concern was for the artifacts." he lied, not to be questioned. "And we will use them well." He nodded to the objects piling in the seat of the Puppy. He noticed some armour on top of the pile. He recognised the design from some old books back in Haven. They were Mar's.

A feeling down in the pit of his stomach told him to give them to Jak, even though he had planned since the day his son was born to give them to him. His heart offered no opposition to the idea. It unsettled him.

He offered them forcefully to Jak, not letting himself look Jak in the eye and betray his thoughts.

* * *

Daxter's confident, almost callous disregard for class was refreshing for Damas, he had to admit. But the fact the bird went at the rat every time they met was grating on his nerves.

"Enough!" he barked at the possible mammals, no one was really sure. "If I wanted you to fight, I would have commanded it." he breathed slowly to calm his voice. "You did... very well, Jak." he began, feeling another uneasy notion rising up again. "You make me proud..." _My son? No..._"that our training program is so good..."

He felt felt akin to Jak, but it wasn't a bravado shared among the men that he felt, he felt... fatherly. "One more arena win," he told himself as well as Jak, "and you will be a true wastelander!" _And I can call you part of the family... loosely._

* * *

Damas saw Kleiver looming over Jak, who didn't back down. Kleiver was trying to scare the boy, he hadn't been successful yet. Something Damas felt distinctly prideful about.

"What's going on here?" he shouted behind Kleiver, causing the larger man to jump slightly.

"Nothing, your Lordship." Kleiver answered automatically. He was older, it was harder to break the habits of men that had been doing it for the last twenty years. "Just offering Jak and the Little One here," Kleiver continued, rubbing Daxter's chin, "some healthy advice."

_Jak and the Little One..._

Damas froze for a moment, seeing Mar's features overlay on Jak's. He tried to ignore it. He pushed it into the back of his head as he pulled Jak over to the side, seeing him eye Kleiver's skull cockily.

"You have a reputation for being rash. Didn't your father ever tell you to pick your battles carefully?" Damas noticed too late that Daxter was signalling to stay away from that subject. The rat sighed silently as Jak stared at him in a frozen shock.

"I... didn't know my father..." Jak barely managed to choke out. He couldn't look at Damas any longer. It stung. It couldn't be though... Could it? He turned hastily, almost falling over in his rush to get away.

Damas froze, staring at Jak for a moment longer.

Mar was taken at three years old. He could never know his father. Like Jak. Like this boy, that looked so much like Mar was living the wrong life. Damas knew _that_ far too well.

Jak wasn't someone who should be banished. He had values that even those in Haven had forsaken years ago. The Dark eco was hardly Jak's fault. Jak may be functioning with it, but it was wrong to have subjected him to or blamed him for it.

If whomever had caused it was still alive, Damas would not have given him any mercy for torturing a boy so like Mar.

He was still so young. Far too young to be tossed out to defend himself from all the word, too young to be so bitter to the world, too young to be so alone. Or to be with him, his father, but not...

He broke off that thought, immediately. Jak is 18, Mar is barely 6.

He grabbed Jak's shoulder before the boy ran away. "My point is," he emphasised to himself, as well as Jak, "sometimes you face you enemy head on, and sometimes... you wait until his weakness is revealed. Patience is a warrior's greatest weapon." He felt wrong, he'd prepared that speech for Mar, when he got into that righteous 'I can take on the world by myself' phase that everyone did.

Mar had heard it a hundred times as he prepared it. He had planned ahead... a lot.

Jak stared at him, like it reminded him of something.

"Do you understand?" Jak nodded silently, still looking surprised. "Jak, I want you and Kleiver to go into the desert and herd a group of lizards into a waiting transport. We must prepare for whatever lies ahead. I need all the resources we can gather." He looked Jak directly in the eyes. _This is for the good of everyone, not for some self-righteous cause..._

Jak grinned in return.

Damas felt himself smile. _He understood._


	9. Wouldn't know, A Whim and His Wife

Lots of not so real/canon scenes here. Some poetic licensing also created. :) I enjoy myself.

Okay, I've given Mar a mum/mom/whatever you call it. They never actually mention a mother, but I think it would be important. I know alot of people assume she died when they were banished or when Mar was taken, but she may not have, and that's my point.

I have a meaning behind her name, I'd like to see if anybody gets it, but its fine if they don't, it's pretty without knowing I looked on the net for 2 bloody hours to find one I like the meaning of.

Jak, as I thought when I played, began claiming Damas as his father figure, he didn't even think about it. The scenes they both star in show that, but I'm horrible at getting that across sometimes.

Damas is being a dad to the guys, I think it's so cute. Even if he doesn't even realise it.

Disclaimers in earlier chapters.

* * *

Damas quietly sat in the throne room. Jak didn't know his father. Damas would probably barely recognise his son by the time he found him, if he did. Mar wouldn't know him at all.

Jak's eyes reminded him so much of Mar. The honesty shining through crystal blue. Blue was a common colour, but the crystal blue he possessed, it was a truly rare colour, rarely outside Damas' own family.

The skin was paler, but years in Haven could do that to the most tanned of people, the Dark eco he'd been subjected to probably hadn't helped.

His hair, Damas could remember Mar's green hair beginning to fade to a blond as he played in the desert oasis. His own hair had still had similar colouring at the time, the thick blond hiding green that had been in their line for generations. His beard, now held in dreadlocks similar to his hair had been a dark green like Jak's goatee.

His frame imitated his wife's. It was surprising, but the men of Mar often took their frame from their mother. Damas would've though he was her family's child, if not for the fact she had been young when she had Mar and had only one sibling, who had only the one child, who had been 16 the last time he'd seen her.

Jak wasn't a Haven born boy, Damas could tell. His morality hadn't been skewed by Haven like most's were. If he hadn't known better, he would have said he was Spargus raised. But even that was wrong.

Jak looked out for others, not self-preservation, and although aggressive, he meant well and attempted to make up for his shortcomings. Mar did that too...

Jak was too much like him for Damas to ignore.

He would talk to his wife about this, eventually.

* * *

Damas called Jak to the throne room, on a whim. Not even to tell him he had his next arena match organised. Just purely on a whim.

As they entered, Daxter immediately went to drown Pecker in the water. Damas gestured for Jak to join him while they watched them.

"What is your... friend?" Damas tried conversationally. It felt awkward, trying to begin a conversation with a boy so like his mute son in face and basic personality. Damas had learnt, however, from observation of Pecker with the pair that Jak didn't take kindly to others calling Daxter a pet.

Jak smiled wistfully.

"Dax's my best friend. I've known him since I was 5." Jak told him honestly. Damas looked at Daxter for a moment before asking anything else.

"That seems a long time for..." Damas stopped himself, realising he wasn't sure what Daxter was. Jak chuckled softly.

"He wasn't always an ottsel." Jak explained. "He was the same as us. Before I... I knocked him into a silo of Dark eco." Jak continued, troubled. Damas looked to Daxter, impressed.

"He was lucky then..." he managed. "Few things can even survive contact with Dark eco." he reminded himself, as well as Jak. He heard Jak scoff.

"I know. I'd have be long gone if I couldn't handle ecos before Praxis caught me." he growled weakly. He didn't have the hate he'd felt in the past for the bastard who'd pumped his body full of Dark eco.

Damas glanced at Jak, interested.

"Nowhere accesible in Haven houses eco suitable for such, where did you find out?" he asked."What ecos could you handle?" Jak grinned kindly.

"I grew up in Sandover. But I dealt with it before I realised I could. All of them, but I'm not sure about now. I haven't been in contact with anything that can be handled beside Dark." he told him, with a faint growl. Damas glanced calmly over to Jak.

"You do know Sandover was where Haven City is now. It hasn't been that village for almost 500 years." he asked serenely, not sounding accusing or disbelieving, despite his mind instantly rejecting the idea of time-travel.

Jak nodded minseculely. "I know." he looked away. "If you don't want to believe me, just think I'm from some remote seaside village. I was only in Haven for three years. Two were in jail." He laughed hoarsely to himself. "Think I went insane in there, just don't think I'm lying, because I wouldn't." he continued. "_Not to my father..._" he muttered under his breath. Jak turned away quickly, recognising what he'd said. His past... that Damas would never believe...

Damas was about to ask what he'd meant when an alarm went off, warning of a storm. This would have to wait.

* * *

Damas waited for word from the wastelanders, Jak was bringing them in quickly. He was the best driver in Spargus, and that title was not easily won.

He knew the boy couldn't immediately get them all back here, and he was doing surprisingly well as it was, none of them were seriously injured so far. He had assumed one wouldn't be alive by the time Jak got to him, not because of Jak, but because the desert was out for the kill aswell as marauders and metal heads.

He paced. He was worried, he couldn't tell why. He should really talk to his wife, get his mind off of these things.

He would have loved to hear her answer him, but Mar's kidnapping had scarred her. She didn't speak anymore.

He found her working to keep herself calm. Her brown hair was filled with sands as she quickly worked around the room. She ignored it, for her own benefit.

The sands were what had stopped them from following to find Mar in the first place. Veger had used the timely storm to escape from Spargus, but after the man had made it to Haven, he'd lost track of Mar. Sig had dug into this and discovered that a boy of similar description to Mar had been harboured by the Underground, but he had never seen the boy.

Working kept her mind off of it. The sand queen had servants that would willingly help, and had been raised to be a baroness, but she was far more down to earth than most woman of position. She didn't burden them with trying to understand a silent woman's wishes. She had done them for herself, and found it preferable to sitting around, moping.

Damas smiled at her. "Iris." he said quietly, not to scare her. She nodded, half turning to him. She stared at him, with emerald eyes, wondering what he was thinking. He told her.

"The new one... Jak..." he began. "He looks like Mar." Her eyes widened, but seemed to realise it couldn't be, no one was cruel enough to throw a child out into the desert.

"No, he's not a child. He's 18." She lifted an eyebrow in question. "He didn't know his father." She blinked understandingly.

A boy without a father would immediately make her think of Mar aswell.

"And he speaks with his eyes. Crystal blue." But if the boy was so much like Mar... "He can also channel." He added, not looking at her. "He might not consciously know it, but he can." She stepped close to her husband. She wanted to see this boy, he seemed too much like Mar for it to be a coincidence. In some way, somehow... _he could_...

"It may just be coincidence." he reiterated. She huffed silently, her heart was telling her otherwise, but she knew better than to set her hopes up too high. She glanced at her husband, as if asking him, _Can I see him?_ He nodded to her unspoken question.

"I will try to arrange it. He's not the easiest boy to track either." he laughed, tired. His wife smiled and lead him to the bed.


	10. Feel Better, Nothing Personal and Mercy

Thank you, Moon. I'm not sure how my writing comes out as easy to read, it's just always been like that. Sorry about the intial confusion. It was meant to convey how hectic it seemed to Jak aswell. And you were inspirational without doing anything, because you gave me a review. I thought Cletus was going to be the only reviewer until I finished the story and let it sit for weeks.

Bringing Sig into it, seeing as he is a big part of the actual story, there will be other characters pulling the plot along, but Sig is a big decider in the scheme of things.

Sig as Jak mentally proclaimed uncle, I'm going with the idea that Spargus is pretty tight, I'm not saying he's blood or anything, just that Jak feels he's an unlce in the sense of looking out for him.

Disclaimers in earlier chapters.

* * *

Jak was right. He did feel better. Dark eco still burnt into his flesh as his body absorbed it, but the Light eco kind of evened it out.

If the vent hadn't opened in the middle of Spargus, he suspected he wouldn't have felt as evened out. It was a counterweight at best, but the light-well felt right.

The Arena was once again brimming with spectators, some hoping for a bloodbath, others hoping for their families to be alright. Jak was the only person that didn't have anyone actually watching out for him.

If he was mortally wounded in here, chances were he was dead, unless his father suddenly decided, 'Fuck it, my kid's somehow 18, instead of 6, but I'm not going to let him die yet.' and that was unlikely.

Jak stood at the podium, waiting surprisingly patiently for Pecker to end his long and elustrious introductory rant. Damas was obviously getting annoyed by the swings that landed a few feathers in his nostrils. Jak had been on the receiving side of that a few times in the last year.

He spared Damas a sympathetic look, without saying anything. Damas caught it. It was far too much like Mar for him to bear. He told Pecker to hurry it up, before he broke down with everyone's eyes on him.

* * *

Jak knows there's someone else out to attack him. But to date, he hadn't killed a single wastelander, not even one. When told it was to be death combat, he pointed out that would be thining their numbers, not the best idea...

He avoided hurting them as much as he could. The arena fighters made it slightly more difficult. He made sure to knock them out more than physically hurt them. Literaly, one hit when they physically tried to touch him, instinct more than thought.

He jumped as he saw a towering figure turn to face him, gun cocked. He knew that armour...

"Sig?" he asked surprised. The figure dropped the gun slightly.

"Jak? Daxter?" Sig replied just as surprised. He glanced the pair up and down. The fact they were here, didn't bode well for Jak. "Well, don't you two look sorrier than ever." he muttered to himself.

"What are you doing here?" Jak asked him confused. This was the arena... in a 'to the death' competition... _oh no_.

"Honing my skillls." Sig muttered darkly. "Let's finish this." He pulled the peace-maker up to eye level again. He didn't know why he hadn't shot yet.

"Whoa! Come on, Sig, I'm not gonna fight you!" Jak told him taking a step back and dropping his morph gun from a ready position. Jak stared him in the eyes. _I won't. Not against a guy I think of as an uncle._

Sig flinched slightly at Jak's stare. "If we don't, he'll kill us both. The rule of the arena. Sorry, nothing personal..." he muttered, holding it at eye-level for a few moments, waiting for Jak to go for it. But somehow, it was personal.

He would never back away from an order made by Damas, or an arena rule. Jak knew that.

But he didn't know that there was something, only one thing, that would stop him from listening to Damas. Damas' son, that Jak looked so much like. That Jak could be... from what Sig had managed to gather from Samos' fragmented comments. Sig realised what he waiting for.

_If he strikes me down, even in defence, he can't be Mar..._

Jak stared down the barrel of Sig's peacemaker, not flinching in the slightest, despite the intent written on Sig's face. He didn't make a move to strike Sig. He just stared at him, asking him to stop without saying a word. _Please..._

Sig stared at Jak, waiting for the tension to snap one of their wills. Sig's snapped first. He stared at Jak's features only to see Mar, never expecting to see the boy at the business end of his peacemaker.

He dropped the peacemaker in disgust at himself. Jak felt the tension he didn't realise he was holding dissipate.

Damas shot out of his seat, both relieved and angered that these two had stopped fighting.

"Blasphemy! One must destroy the other! Complete the test or face worse pain!" he cried out authoritatively. Jak stood motionless, stubbornly refusing to attack his mentally-proclaimed uncle. Sig moaned quietly to himself. "Seize them!"

* * *

Damas stood in the throne room, with a number of citizens crowding around the elevator and a few, mostly holding Jak, guards holding the seized men. That made things difficult.

He had to know why Jak seemed so close to Sig, when they had known each other for the most of a year. Why Sig refuses to finish the fight?

Was it because Jak reminded him of Mar aswell? Sig would always go through to the end, even if he was not proud of it, unless it was a child.

Jak was not a child. There had to be something there for Sig to break out of his own strict behavioural pattern.

Damas stared at Sig, trying to silently ask him for the information he wanted. Mar would've been able to convey the message, but that was part of the problem. Sig stared downwards, knowing what Damas was glaring for, but also knowing he couldn't explain it here.

Damas stormed up closer, trying to understand. Sig lifted his head slightly, looking from Damas to Jak, then back with a difficult expression to explain. Jak glanced his eyes to towards Sig, confused. It was an awkward thing Sig tried to convey, but even Jak couldn't understand it.

Damas glared at the larger man, demanding answers, _NOW!_, but Sig kept himself tight-lipped. He would have sounded insane, or gotten Jak mixed up in it, _If he isn't already,_ Sig reminded himself. This wasn't something that could be cleared up in a public hearing, at the least.

None of them realised how mixed up it already had Jak. And Damas could tell it was not that simple for Sig to explain without words. A simple problem to fix, send them on a punishment that he knew they could survive, even if it seems harsh.

"Sig, your time in Haven City has poisoned you!" Damas growled to the thoughts of the audience's eyes. He didn't understand how that worked in the slightest. Haven was dog-eat-dog, if anything Spargus' ruler, himself, was the reason Sig and the newcomer..."And you, newcomer!" He turned to Jak, an angry scowl on his face, but he couldn't seem to sound like he was sending them to a horrible fate, it pulled at his lungs when he tried. "You deserve no mercy." His words fell to the pit of his stomach for a moment.

"I should toss you both into the jaws of the desert!" He noticed a few guards seeming to comply with that, he quickly glared their movements into submission. "However, Sig, your years of service as our spy in Haven have earned you a chance to redeem yourself." _And I need to know why this boy has you going soft..._ "But just this once!" he reminded, swinging a staff close to the man's nose. Jak glanced up, scooting towards Sig as much as he could, with four men holding him in place.

"A spy?" The boy sounded surprised to Damas' ears, but his eyes didn't. They looked hopeful for some reason. Sig quickly, without looking at the boy to see a child he shouldn't, elbowed Jak in the ribs.

"Just shut up..." he muttered quietly. "I'll tell you later." he half-lied. He knew he would have to tell Jak sooner or later. That he thought Damas was his father, but had no idea how. That he was in Haven looking for the child Jak had been, the kid they had been protecting.

Damas sent the pair into the desert to deal with metal heads, something both of these men were well known for doing.


	11. Remember Who You Are and Cherries' Name

Thank you LittleL,  
Jak thinking of Sig as an uncle is kind of paralleling how my brother and I view our uncles(what we call them anyway), they seriously act exactly the same, so it wasn't much of a jump to see Jak thinking of him like that. But I really think he did, Sig was one of few people Jak actually stuck his neck out for, and who watched his back.  
I'm updating as soon as I can, my internet's been dying every half an hour for the last two days, and I've got to be quick if I want to post.

Alright length-wise this is still normal, but movement-wise it's a little short. If nobody has figured out my assumptions, then it'll be a bit more clear after this.

And I bloody loved that Crocadog, where did it go? It might make an appearance soon, but I'm really not sure.

Disclaimers in earlier chapters.

And I know this will sound like a suck-up, but:  
'Reviews are like drugs, just much harder to get and much more rewarding.'

* * *

Jak felt something was unusual, wrong, as they destroyed the metal heads in the cave. Sig was hiding something, he wouldn't look at Jak. He hadn't looked at him, since he'd stared at him in shock, dropping the peacemaker in the Arena.

Jak moved on autopilot, wandering to an oasis he hadn't realised was just outside Spargus, but felt familiar, it was the only water source for ages, besides Spargus itself, on a coastline, but it felt familiar. It felt... nice.

He heard a whooshing noise that he would associate forever with hover vehicles like the Hell-cats. He didn't turn, as Daxter jumped to see Ashelin hoping out. He tried to diss the girl, but she intelligently ignored him.

"Jak... It's good to see you." she told him awkwardly. Jak lifted his head and turned slightly. He should at least give her the decency of looking at her.

"That beacon you gave me... thanks." he muttered out quietly. It had brought Damas looking for him, but put them on rocky ground, since he knew it was Ashelin's beacon. She smiled weakly.

"I knew-... Damas would find you. He doesn't miss much in this place." She stopped herself before she said anything about her family. Jak didn't need to know, did he?

"How do you know him?" Jak asked, as soon as she thought that. She turned away from him, stepping back to lose a bit of the softness she knew she was showing. She liked Jak, she just didn't know if it was a family feeling or a romantic one.

"It doesn't matter now." And it didn't, her uncle probably would never look her in the eye again. She'd sworn she'd only activate the beacon if she found Mar, and make sure Mar was with it. Jak couldn't be that heir of Mar, could he? Besides the fact his name was Jak...

Damas hadn't seemed to think so...

Jak was a descendant of Mar, but he couldn't be her baby cousin. He couldn't be that little boy she'd seen the day he was born, when she was fourteen, and knew it was when she'd seen Jak protecting him from Krimson Guards, just over a year ago. The crocadog, that never let anyone near Mar, had let Jak close, but since Mar was gone...

That dog had never strayed far from Mar. It had hung around Jak, when Mar was sent 'somewhere safe', as the older 'Shadow' had said. She'd tried to weasel more from him, but the man was tight-lipped.

Since Jak was gone, she hadn't seen the dog since the night at the Naughty Ottsel. She hoped the mutt was alright. It might have hated her, but it was a last reminder of Mar she didn't want to lose, it would mean Mar was gone for good.

"Jak, I need you to come back to the city."

Veger was making things so difficult in Haven, following his own agenda and schemes.

He knew Jak was somehow a descendant of Mar, that was part of the line that had gotten the cowardly councillors to follow the senator. That Jak was unstable and a threat to them if he tried to claim his inheritance. Ashelin knew that Veger was omitting something. Veger knew something else, but what?

Jak refused to look at her. She offered him the board Keira had built especially for him when she realised it was Jak. She kept talking.

"Jak, your friends need you." she said, pausing. Jak couldn't be Mar... "I need you." she muttered, she did need him. It felt strange needing someone your father had tried to erase every last mention of. If he was her baby cousin, however, she also needed him to remember it. Jak grunted as he took the board roughly out of her hands, but took care of the board as if it would shatter if he held it wrong.

"The city threw me out, remember?" he growled. She heard the dark eco under the surface as Jak tried to calm himself. He was getting better at it.

He hadn't bitten at her yet. "They can rot for all I care." Ashelin knew he meant the bastards in council, but she couldn't help her almost indignant answer.

"But what about your-" _friends, your family..._ she tried to continue.

"Forget it! Just leave." Jak barked at her, knowing if she got another word in he'd crack. She stared at him sadly.

Was Jak's spirit dying in the desert like Damas' had?

"So the Jak I knew did die in the desert, or was it long before that?" She muttered to Jak, not thinking of Mar if she could. He turned away from her. The Jak she knew was angry, vengeful, dying on the inside. It wasn't the Jak or the kid she knew, but he wouldn't tell her that.

"Don't you remember who you are?" she asked him, putting the seal in his hand without a word. She stared directly into his eyes. _Please, if you are..._

He held his only link to his family in the air, inspecting it, as it glistened at his touch. He turned away from Ashelin, avoiding her gaze.

"I'm through with saving the world." He growled, stomping away. It only made his own life worse protecting a world from itself. He knew he would if he had to. But he wouldn't trap himself just to stop a conflict that was because men were inherently greedy. He walked back to Spargus, ignoring the sands tossing around him.

* * *

"Well, Sig. Why did you stop fighting? Jak is fully capable of defending himself, even if he made no move to attack you." Damas told Sig as they sat on the water's edge.

Sig turned away slightly. How was he supposed to tell the man, that he thought Jak was his son?

"Do I need to ask you why you stopped as if he was a child?" Damas continued, not pointing out only one child even came to his mind as he said it. Sig sighed.

"Look, Cherries is a good kid..." Sig stopped, realising what he'd said. _Cherries_ was Mar's name. Jak's name.

Damas stared at Sig angrily for a moment. "Yeah. That's why." Sig finished. Damas calmed slowly, looking Sig in the eye. He didn't like what he saw.

"You are aware that Jak is 18, and Mar is barely 6 years old!" Damas bit out, barely keeping his voice even. Sig nodded.

"Yeah, but in case you haven't seen him, old Samos has aged about that much in less than a year." Sig noted, handing Damas a pair of images. Samos had definitely aged more than a year should've done to him.

Sig breathed loudly. "Look, I'm not saying he is. I'm just saying I think he could be. I don't know all the details. But Jak reminds me way too much of Mar for it just to be a coincidence."

Damas agreed with that sentiment entirely. But time couldn't be messed with like Sig was suggesting.

Time travel was not possible. It never would be, he would have stopped Mar from being kidnapped if it was. Damas turned to Sig.

"Tell none of this to Jak." he ordered. Sig nodded regretfully and left. Damas stormed out in the other direction.


	12. Someone To Be There

As you'll be surprised to notice this chapter is only one (made-up) scene. I didn't even realise it was long enough to constitute it's own chapter. I really do like it however. It's something soft, that I rarely see...

Anyway, Iris meets Jak.

Okay, him blurting out 'Mom' instead of any other derivative of mother, is because it's the simplest, shortest version his voice can pull off. Seriously, I tried to think of a cute version of saying it and it just made my brain bleed.

I _should_ draw up an image of Iris, maybe, just so you can see what's in my head, but I'm horrid at doing a hairstyle besides a girl-ish bob. Yay or nay, people?

I'm ashamed of my country, the only time you find good games is when somebody tries to pawn them off as cheap crap, and then bolt because the cops are doing rounds. Yeah, I just implied my sources are less than refutable characters, but who's aren't?

Disclaimer in previous chapters.

* * *

The sands were quiet for the first time in what felt like ages to Iris. The first time in the same amount of time that she could go around without having to worry about another panic attack.

Her husband had apparently dealt with an issue in the Arena, someone had refused to finish off his oppenents, they had refused to complete the citizenship tests. She was glad someone had stood up to that.

It meant Spargus wouldn't lose citizens from poor treatment, she didn't want to lose any of them, she loved them like family, from annoying old men to the children prepared to defend Spargus in their own little games.

It also meant someone had morals they refused to detach themselves from. Whoever this was, they had her respect, something not many could claim.

She heard her husband order someone to 'tell none of this to Jak'. She dove ahead of the door, hiding behind it. She remained quiet as Sig left, apparently not noticing her. She held her breath for a moment.

Sig sighed. "Should tell Cherries he's out of hot water now, at least." he muttered to himself. He turned and walked loudly away from the room. "Hope he's back here by now."

Iris breathed in quietly, and followed him as quietly as she could. This could be the only chance to see the boy she got for a while.

She knew she wasn't an expert at following people, but Sig never turned once to check a sound she heard echo loudly when she made it. She suspected he knew she was following and laughing to himself.

He stopped at the elevator, just as it rose, revealing a greenish-blond haired boy, who looked like he was moving on autopilot. He didn't even register Sig until the man stop him.

The boy blinked, his eyes clearing to look at the man. He looked down apologeticly. He felt guilty, but he wasn't even sure if it was...

Sig tried to ignore the expression. "Well, Cherries, we did good. You're out of hot water, and I can get back to doing my job." he trailed off half-heartedly. He stopped for a moment longer, then leaned over to whisper something to the boy. Iris couldn't hear it.

The boy's eyes shot up, glancing around panicked. Sig looked smug, to Iris. He really did.

He excused himself. A bit of a spring in his step, but Iris assumed that was her mind coupling it with his smug grin. She crouched further behind a rock, hoping the boy didn't see her.

But the boy had heard her as he was almost immediately in front of her.

Iris gasped silently as the boy glared unseeing at her. It mirrored Damas' harsh glare that had sworn vegenance at Count Veger. The boy thought she was going to attack him...

Her face droped slightly. She couldn't even tell him that she wouldn't. His eyes suddenly changed, from blind anger to a recognising confusion. His mouth opened.

"Mom?" he yelped, looking truly embarresed that he'd practically been snarling at her less than a second before. She stared at him confused.

He looked like Mar, he really did. But he was far too old. She couldn't be his mother... She wanted him to be Mar, but how could he?

She reached to his forehead, rubbing it softly, like she had with Mar. He flinched momentarily, but calmed quietly. She inhaled in surprise. _How?_

He suddenly shook his head violently. He pulled away from her and sat down on a rock, trying to ignore the familiar sensation. Then put his hand to his head in frustration. He huffed loudly.

"I'm not him anymore." he muttered to himself. She cocked an eyebrow, but he didn't answer her how she would have liked.

He smiled tightly for a moment, he knew what she was asking, just decided not to answer it.

"Look, you look like my mother. I haven't seen her since I was 3. You're not her. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She gave him a look that impled she knew he was lying about at least part of that. But she looked at him sadly, Mar hadn't seen her since he was 3 either.

She rubbed his forehead again softly, she didn't mind. She was a mother, she would mother him if he needed it.

He closed his eyes under her hand. He breathed slowly, a very faint smile on his lips. She sat beside him as she rubbed his head. Eventually, he fell asleep on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry... Mother... I'm not how I'm supposed to be..." he mumbled unconciously. His breath was hitched slightly, he almost sounded like he was crying. She froze for a moment. Her hand dropped to his eyes. He _was_ crying.

Her arms slithered around his neck, pulling him close. His quiet sobs slowed, until they almost didn't exist. She smiled, and kissed him on the forehead. She quietly pulled him out of the water, rested his head on a cushion and silently wished him a good night.

It didn't matter he couldn't be Mar, all that matter was he was there.

A son, that needed someone to be there.


	13. Questions in the Desert

My internet was down, as was my electricty today... We're getting new power lines down the road, which means my half of the road is out.(_Not kidding, the guys across the streets had power. .) _So it took me until the power came back to get on the net to post this.

I was ecstatic to find 3 reviews from when I post the last chapter.

Lunar, thank you very much. It makes my day when people put in the effort to review this. I just thought it seemed short, I might have been exaggerating. I'll try to keep writing. ;)  
L-b-l, I'll try to work faster in the future, sleep, work and school are my constraints so I apologize.  
LittleL, Thanks, I'll try.

By the way, the scene's 'Questions for Sig', but as far as I can tell, the scene bounced who was being questioned alot. I thought it was actually a pretty clever scene, you notice it without actually _knowing_ anything yet.

* * *

Sig grinned as he met Jak at the mouth of the cave. They quickly cleared it out again, taking the eco crystal Sig had noticed previously in there.

Sig cheered, as they drove out, quickly clearing the exit.

"Yeah, baby! I love the smell of burnt metal heads in the morning. This is good practice for when the spit hits the fan, and trust me, it's coming." he commented, glancing at Jak, when he remembered saying something similar to Mar. And that he wasn't one to avoid swearing unless it was a child. And that it was Jak. Jak had noticed that, and recalled what Sig had avoided answering earlier.

"What's Damas got with Haven City, Sig?" he asked pointedly. Sig looked torn for a moment. He couldn't tell Jak, not without something concrete.

"None of your business." he muttered, hoping the boy would leave it at that. Mar wouldn't. Daxter interrupted Jak.

"What was all that spying you did, huh?" he asked snidely. With Jak's stare added, he caved.

"Let's just say Damas lost a little something in the city, and he wanted me to find it." He growled out, he couldn't just stop talking though.

Jak turned towards Sig slightly, trying to figure out what he meant by that. Was he looking for the Kid, the little boy with the seal of Mar...

Had Damas lost his son, when Jak had lost his past?

He hated this, his life was taken out from under him and anything that was his was out of reach, because he wasn't the way he was supposed to be. It wasn't fair.

Sig knew they'd keep asking. He had to turn this around. "What do you care, man?" He asked back at the boy. "Haven folk are a bunch of weaklings..." _hypocrites and thieves_, "You know that!" He really did, Jak's grip tensed on the steering wheel. Jak couldn't tell Sig why. "They'd lost the war before it started. Luckily, Damas has a plan to make sure we _all_ survive."

_Not just survival of the strongest. He wants to protect, like you're trying to._

"You're playing with people's lives!" Jak growled. The civilians knew nothing of what was really happening, all they knew was metal heads were assaulting and the Krimson Guard was revolting against the new commander. The people there were just as much victims as anyone else.

"Why not?" Sig yelled back harshly. "They played with mine." he growled. The memory of Mar being taken more vivid than his banishment. The kid meant more than his old life had.

Jak stared outwards, not looking at anything in front of him. He remembered Sig trying to get him, only to be stopped by a small battalion. A woman was fallen behind him, but Jak couldn't make her out. He saw himself being taken, Sig getting further and further away.

Sirens were roaring. Sig mouthed a word, but Jak couldn't hear him. The memory was too old to remember clearly.

Jak silently mouthed the word. Sig saw Jak's lips turn, forming a familiar name. Sig turned away from the mug that reminded him so much of Mar, the kid, the one he couldn't find.

"Survival of the fittest, baby." he said more to himself than anything else. Mar could be dead for all they knew. A green haired child with blue eyes like crystals wasn't that common in Haven or Spargus, however poetic it sounded. Jak might just look like him, and that'd be the end of it.

"Get on the winning side." he told Jak, not saying it would break his soul, because Jak knew. Sig had seen that when he'd met him, using Krew as a means to an end. For a torture Jak had endured for two years, Sig couldn't blame the kid.

"Which side is that?" Jak growled back. Sig broke off.

"The one on top of the pile. Unfortunately, it's gonna be a big pile." They both sat silently as Jak watched Sig's broken expression, telling him someone was lost, and possibly dead.

Jak could feel it was probably him, but saying that wouldn't help at all, only raise more questions.

_It's the kid, the heir of Mar, isn't it?_

his eyes ask before he can hide them from Sig. Sig knew how to read a mute boy.

Sig was startled by Jak's questioning eyes. _How could he know? Is he?_, but they didn't look at each other for more than a moment, neither caught the other's answer. They continued driving, and Daxter eventually broke the melodramatic silence.


	14. I Lost My Son and Wastelander Rights

Well, good evening/whatever-it-is-in-your-timezone.

I'm horrible at consistency, as you can no doubt tell, so this is the next installment, which is still short, but two parts. Sorry, the next scene was _really_ too long to just slap on the end of this. The next chapter is a personal favourite of mine, but no spoilers yet.

I'm having a ball with this though. Much more fun that working at McDonald's, less practical economically, but way more fun.

Disclaimers in earlier chapters.

* * *

Jak wandered into the throne room, it was the only place besides the coast he felt at home. It calmed him for whatever reason, most likely the water, but he wasn't sure. Damas saw the boy enter, looking reminiscently around the room.

He didn't know why he even thought it, he could not bring himself to believe that Jak was Mar... _It just couldn't be_.

He had, however, opened up to the idea of Jak as a son. He told him things he'd planned to tell Mar as he grew into the strong man he hoped... That he knew he would become.

Jak responded just like he knew Mar would, if he ever got the chance.

"Look..." Damas began, holding some sand in his hand, letting it slip though his fingers, "Sand cannot keep a shape by itself, but add water and it becomes malleable." Jak nodded unconsciously. "Fate can be such, if you add the right element." He waited to see if Jak would answer like he hoped Mar would. Jak's eyes lit up.

"ECO!" Jak answered enthusiastically. Damas smiled back. He was almost glad it was Jak that reminded him of his son. He was startled that Jak had thought of it, however. Only well-versed channellers realised it _could_ be used for anything besides bullets any more. That it's not just a weapon, just like Jak.

There was not much unfocused eco any more, unfortunately. Most of it was held in wells or had dried out its sources long ago.

"Our minds think alike." he told the boy, amused. "My monks say the world is coming to an end," He saw Jak's eyes roll at that comment.

He had noticed Seem didn't seem to particularly like the boy much. And the feeling seemed somewhat mutual.

"But I am a survivor. I say we live on long after this world dies!" Jak grinned along with Damas. He somehow knew Damas had been thinking this through for years, that he had planned this out. "Be ready. You are shaping up to be one of my finest warriors, and I'll need you for the trails ahead." He continued, knowing he would not used Jak as a tool, but welcome him as family, he would even take him on as a son.

Jak bowed his head thankfully, proud of the man he hoped was his father. He now understood why he'd wanted to be a wastelander, not ask if Damas was his father. He wanted to feel he'd earnt his father's praise. It wouldn't hurt if he knew for certain, though.

Damas realised he had prepared this speech for Mar. He broke off unsteadily.

"I mustn't lose you... like I lost my son." Damas didn't realise he'd told Jak why his soul seemed at times detached, until Jak stared at him a confused look, expressing he wanted to know more, needed to know, but couldn't bring up why, _Are you?_, he wanted to ask.

"You had a child?" Jak managed to ask evenly, reaching up to his seal unconsciously. Damas nodded, looking away from him.

"_Long ago..._" 3 years without any word of his son was a long time to the man, but that would have sounded much longer to anyone else's ears.

Jak thought so, and looked away in sadness. His hand dropped silently. _You're not..._ Damas caught his silent message and wondered why the boy hadn't seemed more hopeful. To anyone else, it seemed his son could have been Jak's age.

Jak shouldn't have backed down. Damas would not have rejected him... Damas need to get these things off their minds.

Jak thought it couldn't be him. That Damas' son was truly a teenager, not the child he should be.

He only half heard the orders Damas gave him to distract him. "Go make war your own!" Damas called out loudly, it was a motto of the House of Mar, it was one thing he'd sworn he would never let anyone else hear. Jak was the only exception he had ever made.

Damas' words broke through Jak's thoughts. He grinned back weakly to the man who probably wasn't his father.

* * *

Sig sent Jak out looking for artifacts, that was what Kleiver had heard anyway. What he'd tried to tell Jak was he could count on him.

"Wastelander rights!" he had called out to him. Jak may not have been a technical wastelander yet, but Sig had classified him one, he had long before the boy had even know of Spargus, as far as Sig knew. It meant to some citizens, right to dibs on things, which more often than not was Kleiver, or that they'd watch each other's back in a fight, things Jak, knew it meant, and could tell instantly.

Sig had not told him that it meant also he could tell him anything, and he wouldn't betray him. A message that he was trying to tell solely Jak.

He didn't think things around Jak's past were simple, that he could be the one he was looking for.

It was something very few would notice, even in Spargus, where they did watch each other's backs. Something private, that Sig had never shared with anyone, except Damas. A bond that he was trying to share with Jak.

Something Mar was never told about, that Jak needed to figure out.


	15. Their Families and Mother

Alright, a couple of consistency points here, Erol's name gets change to 'Errol', in the game, I've checked, but I don't give so he's still Erol. And the English(US/EU/AUS) version of Seem is a female, despite Daxter calling her 'Monk-boy', she does seem pretty unisex, I've give you that, but I see Seem as a chick.

Alright, both scenes are entirely made up, by yours truly, because I love kind of foreshadowing/placing in timewise. The most surpising thing I think, is that the time travel stuff is in the back of my head, I don't need to focus on it directly to mold it for my story telling.

Seem is an awesome character, there should've been more of her in the game, or at least a mention of her in other games. I know they intended for her to die... _Yes, I have the commentary, I'm curious about the 'Piece of Cake, baby' story._ But Seem was awesome, maybe there should've been more monk stuff in general.

If anyone thinks I'm trashing Ashelin, I'm not. The first part actual builds her up as somewhat sweet under the Governess persona, if a little thick. I just can't really see her as someone who pays attention that much, or who is willing to tell people they're in danger when she _can't_ do anything about it.

* * *

Jak tried sleeping in the new Freedom base.

It felt strange, he'd been there for the construction and renovations, but it was still unusual to not remember a part of Haven from when he was young. But it was refreshing.

Eventually, after staring out the twenty story window for hours, trying to find stars in the haze, he felt his eyes droop and sleep take him.

Listening to Ashelin apologize for his banishment and getting another mission briefing could wait, he had cuts and bruises that he needed to sleep off, even if he rarely slept.

As he slept, Ashelin came into the sleeping quarters. She was surprised that someone was actually sleeping in there. No one in Haven could stand being on, let alone sleeping on the higher floors, '_It could fall'_, a suspicion the castle's fall had festered.

She gasped quietly, realising it was Jak. She hardly recognised him without the hardened scowl or without a gun in his hand, his goggles rested on the table beside him, Daxter curled up in them.

Jak's green hair was much stronger under the band, where the sun couldn't get it. It was almost as dark as she remembered Mar's hair was. She shook her head again. _Jak isn't Mar. Just a Mar._

Jak smiled happily in his sleep. Despite the cuts and bruises, he looked almost child-like, serene with a peace that almost never shone through when he was awake.

What could he be dreaming about so much better than reality? Well, anything was better than what Jak had been through.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, as she thumbed his fringe. Jak had been taken by the city, played with, used, then tossed away like last week's refuse. He didn't deserve it.

He shifted slightly in his sleep. Ashelin froze. She didn't want him to wake up. If rest was the only time Jak smiled, she wanted him to sleep as much as he could.

"Mom?" he muttered unconciously. "That you?" Ashelin remained silent for a second, was he dreaming about his mother? Or was he hoping he was? "Mom?" he almost whimpered.

"It's okay." she muttered back, still rubbing his forehead. She was surprised he hadn't woken yet.

"I thought I found my dad..." he mumbled quietly. Ashelin looked surprised. Jak's father couldn't be Damas. He had to be from another generation. "But it's been too long for it to be me. He sounds like his son was a teenager, like I am..." he quietened for a moment. "Not a kid... like I'm supposed to..." he brokenly explained.

Ashelin tried to concentrate on his words, but her mind kept wandering to why he was telling _her_. Did she sound like his mother? She had always sounded like her aunt, when she had spoken... Or _would_ she _be_ his mother?

"I want Damas to be him... but... what if he isn't?" Jak slurred unconsciously. She hoped, almost prayed, that he could be her little cousin, but she pushed it aside. There was no use hoping if he didn't know consciously.

"Don't worry, Mar..." she paused, why did she call him _that_?

_It is technically part of his name_, she reminded herself. "You'll find out eventually. Damas would take you in, even if you weren't..." she trailed off, not knowing how she meant to finish the sentence. "I have to go..." She whispered as she tried to move away.

Jak's hand quickly grabbed her wrist, stopping her from leaving.

"Please... tell me..." he begged unconsciously, "Mom, I don't want to wake up and find out you're dead..." He looked scared, his body shook with tremors, but she couldn't break out of his grip without waking him. She rubbed his forehead again, and the tremors lessened slightly.

"I'm fine..." she lied as his hand tightened slightly. He knew she was. "Your mother's alive." she told him, thinking of her aunt. Heartbroken, without her son, but alive. Their families were resilient, even if they didn't look it. He smiled and released Ashelin's wrist, his arm lolling over the edge of the bed.

She rubbed her wrist gingerly. He had a vice-grip, even as he slept. She wouldn't tell him about this, _It is personal,_ she thought,_ he doesn't need to know I heard him. Let him have his mother, please_. she quietly prayed.

* * *

Jak and, although he hated to admit it, Daxter really had no idea what Seem had meant when she had a change of heart about them. Even as a apparently pacifist monk, Jak was pretty sure Seem had been part of the group that wanted to skin Daxter alive and stuff him in the most painful way possible, not touch him almost adoringly. She said she was wrong about him... Somehow he knew it wasn't just about powers to fight Erol, something familiar, but he couldn't place it... He was trying extremely hard to ignore it as he wandered back into Spargus, there was a bit of a hustle, preparing for battle.

_At least, they know Erol and the Dark makers were coming,_ Jak mused. Not judging Ashelin at all, but Haven wouldn't know until something came smashing down on the tallest structure again.

Jak's eyes wandered as he did. He wondered momentarily, how long some people had been here, or better yet, why they were here.

The woman he'd met, she hadn't spoken, but she felt like his mother, but his memory was so sketchy... She seemed too kind to survive in the desert or to last in the tests. She may have been strong, but her frame was wirey, like his and she had a look that almost looked lost.

He wondered if she was...

Iris, for once, wished for a sand storm, it would have distracted her from the chances of people not coming back. Damas was adamant of watching out for beacons, she suspected he was watching out for Jak. He had almost admitted he thought of the boy as a son, he was taking a parental mindset in most accounts related to Jak. She didn't need to tell him, she had as well.

She saw a flash of green and blond, and for a moment thought it was Damas, before remembering it was snow-white. She blinked for a moment and saw Jak. He noticed her aswell, it seemed. He jogged over to her. He opened his mouth, as if to call her name, but stopped. She hadn't told him one, she half-smiled to herself.

She wouldn't mind him calling her 'Mother'. She didn't think he would understand her gestures, not many who had not dealt with Mar did. The gestures were very similar between her and her son, silently they could talk, but she loved hearing him giggle and sigh.

Jak surprised her. "You'd let me?" he asked confused, hopeful. "But... Damas..." Her ears perked up. "He's not..." Jak stopped himself. "M-mother?" He tried, the word sound new on his tongue. Iris grinned, her eyes betraying the sense that it felt right for him to say it, even if everything else was wrong.

It felt like it was the first time she'd heard her son talk. It was the first time she let herself think it was.

He stared back at her happily. Briefly thanking her, before running off to man the cannon.


	16. Possibility, If He Was and Find My Son

Semi-mushy stuff alert. :)

Alright we're getting pretty close now. I'll warn you that I may or may not have AU'd it slightly. If anybody has a harsh dislike of of it being alter, stuff it for now and tell me you want it straight, if enough people ask, I'll write up a deviation from here, IF I MUST.

* * *

As Jak climbed down from the cannon, he felt a presence, one he was glad he had earnt respect from, even if it wasn't his father.

They looked at each other for a moment and could tell the praise was well earnt.

"You did it, Jak. This victory is a sign of possibility." Damas began, "Times look grim. But when I was leader of Haven City, times looked grim then too."

"Wait? You were once the leader of Haven city?" Jak had heard nothing else and he still thought he heard wrong. He almost had hope again that Damas was his father, and that his father wasn't rotting in some back alley of Haven or dust in the desert thanks to the Baron.

Damas nodded. "I came to the throne during the middle of the Metal head wars. Baron Praxis betrayed me and banished me to the Wasteland. The rest you know." He watched Jak as he seemed to be thinking.

Jak put the dates together as best he could. That could very well mean that Damas was his father, the line of Mar was small, there was only two people in the line, his father and himself. The line rarely had more than 3 living members, that was something Ashelin _had_ let slip.

"Anyway, here is your third and final Battle Amulet. You are one of us now. That War Amulet is a beacon. If ever you need us, use it to call and we will be there. And from me, a... welcoming gift. This rare Precursor armour is said to have been worn by Mar himself. I was saving it for my own son... but right now, you should wear it in this difficult time." Damas told him, with just a hint of sadness when he mentioned his son.

Kleiver hadn't given it too kindly, but this was Damas' choice. Jak quickly put the armour on, feeling only the tiniest twinge of guilt at the mention of Damas' son.

"Thanks... but I don't have anything for you." _I can't even give you your son..._ Damas just shook his head ruefully.

"You give us all hope, Jak." Damas didn't even lie. Jak gave Damas a hope about his son he had never expected when they had dragged the boy to Spargus. That he could still grow into the man Damas hoped he would be. Like Jak had. "That is gift enough. Welcome to the clan."

Jak smiled. He felt accepted. Even if Damas wasn't his father, Jak had a family now.

* * *

Jak heard Damas jokingly ask, "Who called for an army?"

Just Damas was better than any army. He'd fight for his father... He stopped himself there.

"You're a long way from the desert. I thought you said a smart warrior never takes his opponent head on?" He grinned at the slightly hypocritical man. If Damas was his father, he knew where he'd gotten his stubbornness and mouth from.

"That depends on how hard your skull is." Jak's grin widened, Damas had caught what his eyes were saying, partially. "I'd say you and I are both rather headstrong." Damas smiled back at Jak as he boarded the ram'rod. Their grins mirrored each other, and both felt uneasy. They both felt the familiar feeling and still didn't know what to do about it.

"Let's finish this!" Jak smiled with a glint in his eyes. He would protect this place, he needed to know his father.

Jak could feel time slow down, but not enough for him to get them out of the way. He watched as the missile came crashing down behind them, flipping the Ram Rod and knocking him out of it.

* * *

He was winded, he knew. But he was fine. He wobbled around the vechile to check on Damas.

He saw Damas pinned under the cage. "Damas!" He panicked and went to help him.

Damas coughed and spoke to Jak. "Not bad driving... kid. It was a good fight... and a good day to die. I'm very proud to have been by your side in the end..." Even if Jak wasn't his son, Damas was glad it was Jak with him in the end.

Any other wastelander wouldn't have actually care about the man, Boss, Lordship, the odd Highness, but none of them looked at him and saw the ordinary man. They saw the impossible ruler of impossible stature, not a man who had a wife, a son and had lost an essential part of his life. "This world is not yet out of heroes..."

Jak could see the broken father, the one that saw his son in him. Damas idly wondered what his wife would have said if Damas _had_ ever brought him to see her.

Jak looked for the amount of leverage he needed to get him out. He needed to hurry if he wanted to get Damas out conscious, or even alive.

"We did well together. Don't move I'll..." Damas stopped him.

He asked him to find Mar, if Mar needed to be found.

"Please promise me one thing. Promise me you'll find my son, Mar." He called Jak, Mar. He thought Jak was his son. He admitted it in his mind. Damas trusted Jak, the age was wrong, but Jak would know.

And even if he was wrong, Jak would find Mar. " You'll know him when you see this... he's wearing an amulet just like it. A symbol of our lineage with the great house of Mar... " Jak froze, seeing the amulet in Damas' hand.

It was the same as the one he had hidden under his shirt, held by a strong leather strap, to remind himself he even had a father here at all. He stared at Damas' amulet as Damas spoke again.

"Save the people, Jak. They need you..." Jak knew he needed to save his father, not just the world.

He couldn't speak. His throat froze up as he saw himself with his own amulet back in Haven.

Damas fell unconscious from his injuries. Jak unconsciously tried to heal him, he didn't even realise and Damas wasn't awake to feel it.


	17. That Child and Precursors

Responding to my reviews:

Eco, I'm honestly thinking about it, but I've got to play/finish the game first. If you want it, you'll have to be prepared to wait a bit over a week.  
LittleL, I know. I almost cried._But that's not saying much, I cry when Mufasa dies in Lion King...(Enough to miss Simba growing up THREE times)_ The scene was brilliant. And honestly it made me like Damas that much more.  
Working on keeping up the work, Thank you.

I love Damas' character, I also think he's really, _really,_ a softie under the rough first impression. Don't get me wrong, he can look after himself, but he's got the heart of gold that Jak has.

I just realised I should've put Veger in a bit more. I didn't make fun of his name enough... I'll write a oneshot maybe. All about him and his nicknames.

I got Jak and Daxter TLF el-cheapo for my PSP, I'm thinking I shouldn't jump from Daxter, but I really want to get it started. So I can laugh my heart out at the apparent nonsense in it.

* * *

Jak stopped moving, holding his breath staring into Damas' face, finally remembering his father in entirety. The few years he'd had with him. The speeches his father had been preparing for when he grew. The shocked looks he got when he managed to channel the light eco from a vent that had been sealed longer than anyone could remember. The pride his father had even though he had never said a word. The games he had played with his father and Sig, they had been hopeless at Charades...

He sat there silently, oblivious to the outside world.

"Father..." Jak finally managed to choke out.

"Yes, you were that child." Veger's voice broke through Jak's recollection. That bastard's pompous speech was telling Jak to just go for his throat and be done with it.

"I took you from Damas, hoping to harness your eco powers for my experiments. Then I lost you to the Underground. You seem upset. Did I tell you too late?"

_Far too late!_

Jak held his father tight, they'd been separated for the entire reason that made him a threat to these men now.

"You were the son of the great warrior Damas. Oh... and he never knew... how _delightful_." That caused Jak to snap.

"VEGER!" Jak roared, a dark eco burst expanding from his body.

It easily tossed the vehicle from Damas' body, the pressure on his ribs and twisted leg gone. Damas' breath came to him a little easier, but he still couldn't open his eyes or move to hurt the sadistic bastard either.

"I'll be back to put you out of your misery." The disgust in Veger's voice made Damas wish he could move only that much more. Veger had been asking for a good beating for the last 3 years, afterall.

Daxter's quick "After him, Jak!" and Jak's questioning were ignored in favour of trying to move.

He felt his arm move the slightest amount. Something was agreeing with him.

"Let's get him!" Daxter's last call was one Damas fully agreed with, if he could have moved any faster. He heard Jak run and start up a vehicle.

Veger was doomed, especially when Damas got movement. Damas stood, realising he shouldn't have even been able to do that.

Someone had been healing him.

But he only person touching him had been Jak. He hadn't been that out of it to have been there for long.

Jak. Who could channel. Who didn't have his father. Who was his son, but hadn't known. Who he needed to protect.

His son was not allowed to die before he taught him better.

* * *

The Ram Rod was totalled, Damas noticed between his coughs. He had to get somewhere else before he could fix himself up enough to be of use to anyone.

A Precursor-styled vehicle returned to the cliff edge. Damas looked at it suspiciously. Was it the Precursors' doing or was there a trap laid for his son?

He limped on his tender leg to the cliff, praying it would not be as strenuous as the catacomb passages had been rumored as.

The end of the tunnel glowed with an eerie light. He prayed the Precursors didn't have it out for his son.

The statue was lit from the inside with eco-lit screens. Some small movement was coming from inside the machine.

Little creatures dressed in blue worked dutifully on the machinery. The didn't notice the vehicle coming to a rest until Damas stepped onto the floating platform.

They turned and stared at the man. They obviously surprised someone was there. He was startled they liked like whatever Daxter appeared to be.

He reminded himself that Daxter had been human at one point. One of these creatures was darker furred however. It also looked vaguely familiar.

The oranger ones looked at Damas and then went straight back to work, it was too dangerous to let the weapon charge unchecked. The brown one stared at Damas longer, with its mouth open in a very familiar way.

He knew who it reminded him of.

"Veger?" he asked confused. The ottsel Veger's eyes opened wider.

"You should be dead!" the brown creature yelled at him. Damas looked smugly at the rat.

"'My son's eco powers'." He explained simply, imitating Veger's accent rather well. Veger twitched.

Suddenly, the platform shook violently, and the three ottsels held their breath for a moment. Damas froze with them, he was worried about Jak.

"Where is my son?" he growled darkly as they breathed in relief. The chubby one answered.

"At the moment, taking care of the Dark Maker that Erol managed to release." Damas, although fearful for his son's life, was glad they at least didn't seem, to mean him any ill will.

He, then, thought about where he was, and what were they supposed to be?

"Precursors?" he asked openly. Veger twitched violently. He was obviously annoyed, _Definitely_. The creature with a shell on its head yelled out happily while the other two quickly quietened him.


	18. A Signal, That Mar and Men of Mar

Okay, surprised here. I thought maybe I would've gotten at least one don't mess with the story, but apparently everybody likes Damas, a bit like I do.

LittleL, Yeah, dreaming this would be a little weird. But you never know you might be getting my brain-vibes in whatever part of the country you're in. Thanks for your support.  
Eco, everybody loves Damas, if not for him being Jak's daddy, then because he's the ruler of Spargus(which makes a lot think of Sparta..._My brother just loved screaming out THIS IS SPARTA! whenever Damas showed up. I hit him when he did it for the death scene.__)_ and because Damas just plain rocks, he is the most awesome king. I'll have to work on playing Jak X, I'll get back on this as soon as I've played it through. [_Which may be a little, because I'm back at school in a few days, and Yr 12/senior/whatever you call it is not fun when you forget to sleep at home. And I'll have to find a way to incorporate not-dead-Damas in somehow_.]

Okay, my signal thing, is because they never explained how everybody ended up in Spargus for the thank yous and junk. And again, not being rude to Ashelin, but she did seem just a little dense. She knew Jak was an 'Heir of Mar', duh, she gave him back the seal, she would've figured by him saying 'what my father called me' as in he_ now_ knew who his father was(ie he is from now, sorta-ish).

Oh, yeah. Keira kinda having a tidbit of personality at the end. :) I mean, come on, in Jak3, the most she said was Jak's always been there for us, I'm with him. _God, the voice change was disconcerting_. But she had some backbone that apparently was dead at any other point in this game. I like her, but her character kind of faded out in the game... yeah.

Okay, lots of fun, but I've got to play X amount of Jak X before I can get back to this, so see ya for a bit.

_And I was totally right I can't stop laughing at TLF. Phoenix is pretty cool, not just coz he's a pirate, but I love that vaguely British accent. The little fight was funny. He's constantly wearing a floatie right now. Because it's an ottsel and that's just wickedly funny. It may be sacrilege, but who cares._

* * *

The _apparent_ Precursors eventually sent out a signal, from what Damas could tell. It was sending a message to go to Spargus, to monks, wastelanders, that damn sage, and even the Freedom League if the curses protruding from a certain channel were to go from.

He believed it was the boy, Torn. Or more accurately now, man. He'd been a private the last time Damas had been in Haven properly.

It was a rough voice that anyone who'd put any resistance to the takeover had gained, the injuries were often to the voice-box, if they had survived.

There were also a number of '_How the hell did they get this channel?_'s. The mechanic Jak liked, Sig had told him of the girl and he'd heard a stray message from her once or twice, was one to say that. Jak was also on a line.

"Why?" was all he asked. Damas supposed he would be annoyed by the answer as much as he was.

"All will be revealed in the arena." it spoke with a distorted voice, trying to sound ominous and all-knowing, obviously.

Jak howled at the the creatures. "Stop pretending. Only dumb-asses won't worship their fucking gods just because they don't look like the image they gave!" he hissed.

The thin, laid-back one spoke into the speaker.

"Dude, cool it. We, like, totally have a pleasant surprise for you."

Jak was obviously not happy with that, because they cut the transmission immediately, wincing visibly.

They, then, realised Damas was more injured than he let on. He collapsed to the floor, barely keeping himself from losing consciousness. The three Precursors looked among each other, and nodded. The dishes quickly went to Damas and they helped lift him onto them.

"We should see to you injuries. Your son won't want you to die after all of this," The chubby one told the wasteland king. He reluctantly accepted their help, and nodded off for some well needed rest.

* * *

When he came to, he heard Jak, _no, his son,_ Mar, complaining about more adventures. Damas tried to get up and see his son, but he couldn't and something told him, he shouldn't.

"We need heroes like you to help us protect the universe, Jak."

Damas' chest housed an angry growl. He was not about to have his son taken again, under the pretences of protection again. He heard his son speaking again, but strained to hear him.

"...Call me by my first name... by what my father called me, Mar."

Damas also heard a voice he found familiar. It sounded like his niece, but he couldn't be sure.

"Jak is Mar? _The_ Mar?" Damas wondered why she thought her baby cousin could, in any way, be _that_ Mar... Actually, maybe he could, but then again...

The chubby one, he thought it was anyway, continued regardless. "Come then, Mar, no time like the present."

Damas' growl became more pronounced and he was fairly certain he would move, right now.

He then noticed there were many of those rats, _ottsels_, watching over him. He barely managed to avoid a disk hovering over his head. However, he leapt up regardless.

He felt like someone was missing... There wasn't a darker furred ottsel in there.

He laughed to himself, _Maybe Kleiver got to him._ He stumbled to where the voices, including Daxter's, were coming from.

"Are you ready, Jak?" the chubby one asked his son, who had clearly stated to be called Mar by them. "We have something to show you."

Mar asked "What?", almost sounding hopeful. The answer was deafened when the two saw each other. While Mar didn't say a thing, his eyes screamed _Dad?_.

The next moment Damas saw the door closing in slow motion and his son running to him much faster.

The two met and, after a moment of understanding silence, were back outside the ship.

* * *

Damas looked at Daxter, now with pants, and an ottsel that looked surprising with blonde hair and skinnier proportions. And an obvious infatuation with the ex-boy.

He smiled at her, while she stared at him, confused. She said nothing as Daxter stared at the precursor ship departing, obviously thinking Jak had left him.

When he noticed Tess looking behind him, he turned to see _two _people he didn't expect to see.

He just gaped at the two. Jak just grinned at his best friend.

"I couldn't leave ya, Dax! You wouldn't last a second without me." The two shared a knowing grin. Then Daxter opened his mouth for very little to come out. Sig leaned over the railing and saw why.

"Damas!" the one-eyed wastelander cried out with obvious enjoyment. He jumped down to the platform they were on and grabbed the men of Mar in a bear hug. "Men of Mar are back with us, damn right!"

He then realised something, and looked at Damas, hoping he would accept Jak was his son. Jak did as well. His eyes betraying him, even if his face said he didn't care. Damas just stared at his son, confused. _How could he not see?_

"You are my son, Mar." he said with both his voice and his eyes. He held his son tightly.

Ashelin gasped loudly. "Jak's my baby cousin?" she screeched, the idea finally clicking inside her head.

The mechanic girl rolled her eyes at Ashelin, a faint smirk gracing her lips. This girl had immediately understood the implications. Damas could see why his son liked this girl.

A woman a few people didn't recognise, but others did, with brown hair and tearful emerald eyes, quietly leaned over the banister, to see the commotion. Keira smiled at the woman, as did Samos, figuring it out almost immediately. They helped her to head down to Damas.

She had tears in her eyes, of course. Of joy, as well as confusion. Her husband was alive, Thank the Precursors, he was alive. Her son though... He should be 6 years old at most. He shouldn't be the man Damas was talking to. _Could he? Is Jak...?_

But when she looked at him, she realised she had known. His hair lightened from green to blond in the sun like his father, his frame imitated her's, short and wirey, and his eyes were the crystal blue that could only be her son's, she couldn't believe she hadn't let herself see it before. Jak was her baby Mar.

She was embraced by her husband and taken over to her son, before she realised it.

The boy was older than Mar should be, she had realised. But he looked at her like Mar always had, when he looked like he'd done something wrong, and wished he could make up for it, but he couldn't with words, but had. _I'm sorry, Mother, I'm not how I'm supposed to be._ She held him close. The message was clear in her eyes.

And in everyone's eyes. Mar was back and he was everything they hoped he would become.


End file.
